


Appetite

by hellhoundsprey



Series: spn kink bingo 2020 [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alien Sam Winchester, Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Alternate Universe - Space, Barebacking, Body Horror, Bottom Kevin Tran, Breeding Kink, Bulge Kink, Double Penetration, Drunk Sex, Love at First Sight, Other, Size Kink, Top Sam Winchester, Trans Character, Trans Kevin Tran, ftm!kevin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-04
Updated: 2020-02-04
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:49:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22555870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellhoundsprey/pseuds/hellhoundsprey
Summary: You don’t fuck aliens, period. You just don’t. You never know what you’re gonna get. With his luck, they might have, like, two dicks or something.2020 kink bingo square 22: breeding kink
Relationships: Kevin Tran/Sam Winchester
Series: spn kink bingo 2020 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1602964
Comments: 7
Kudos: 125
Collections: SPN Kink Bingo 2020





	Appetite

**Author's Note:**

> Text in quotes and italic “ _like this_ ” is non-human spoken or signed language.

The only good thing about parties at their home is that Kev’s mom is too busy putting up an extravagant façade to keep bullying him.

He’s tucked himself away in the garden, complete with a no-longer heaped plate and two glasses of punch. Music via his earphones combined with the slight buzz mixes well with the habit-popped Adderall. He’s spent entire nights like this out here, studying. They don’t miss him just as much as he isn’t missing anything.

Third semester of Aerospace Engineering and it already feels like it’s all he’s ever been doing.

There’s an odd sensation in the back of his neck. A premonition that someone’s…

Kev turns his head to look straight back at a person watching him from, like, ten feet away.

He’s freaked out but not too impolite to start signing, “ _Excuse me, are you looking for something?_ ” but the person raises their very-humanoid hand and puts a smile on their super-humanoid face.

“I speak human.”

Kev says, “Oh.”

The stranger doesn’t say much more, just stands over there and keeps smiling at Kev. And while they are incredibly handsome and nice to look at, it’s…unsettling.

“Can I help you?”

“Oh, no.” They put their hands behind their back. “Why are you out here, alone?”

Kev points at the holo tablet in front of him without looking away.

“Oh.” They tilt their head, unblinking. Silence for a moment. “Physics.”

“Yeah. It kinda sucks.”

“Then you should come in and join us.” The stranger offers a smile and an outreached hand. “You’re Governor Tran’s child, correct?”

Kev bites back an ‘unfortunately’. “I’m kinda busy, so. But enjoy, I guess.”

The person retracts their arm. They still haven’t blinked yet. Eventually, they say, “I will join you in a minute. I will be right back. Excuse me.”

“That’s, not, uh…” But they’re already out of hearing range.

Kev rubs his hand across his face with a tired moan.

“Great.”

~

They return shortly with two generous helpings from the buffet. Kev offers a polite smile and scoots away when they sit down a little too close.

“Apologies,” they say, and scoot back as well. “I do not intend to disturb you. Please, do continue your studies.”

Kev reactivates his earbuds to at least try zone back out from reality. The person is still close enough that he can feel the added body heat in this very strictly balanced garden. God, they must be burning up.

Metals and particles. Oxides and melting points.

Kev’s eyes flicker to the stranger who is mid-chew with a whole-ass mango.

Kev stumbles, “Uh, you’re not, the seed is—”

The stranger’s eyes are wide and innocent while their teeth crunch straight through the fist-sized pit.

“Uh... Nevermind.”

This isn’t his first rodeo. He’s been to school with Glak’tas. Lived with Trtzcas for a while, for one of Dad’s work projects. He can do light conversation in ten non-human languages, no biggie.

But the ones that _look_ humanoid—well, it’s too easy to fuck that up. So easy to assume and fail miserably.

“Is that the drink from the bowl?”

Kev raises the glass in question. “Yeah. It’s pretty good. You tried it?”

“Unfortunately, I cannot consume C2H6O.”

“Oh. Sorry.”

“No worries.” That smile again. They’ve got dimples carved deep into their well-sculpted cheeks. “What fruits does it contain? I can smell the pineapple.”

“Oh, I think, just…oranges. And pomegranate, maybe.” A sip. “Yeah. And, like, three kinds of booze.” Mom’s little helpers.

Their eyes are humanoid too, round pupils and all. They flick over Kev’s face for a split second while that smile never wavers. “Is it legal for you to imbibe C2H6O, humechild?”

Kev counters, “I’m in _college_ ,” and takes an extra-generous gulp. He might have to slip back in and get more soon, and the prospect doesn’t elate him. “I can do whatever I want.”

The person says, “I see,” and pops a handful of loose berries into their mouth.

Kev nods towards the stacked plate. “You’re really into fruit.”

“My species are herbivores.”

“I see.”

“Your colony is known for its excellent crops. I was excited to be invited.”

“And?” Kev takes another gulp. It’s not a half bad night. “Is it living up to your expectations?”

The stranger tells him, “So far? Absolutely.”

~

“And you used to just…keep them? In your homes?”

“I mean, we cared for them, so.” Uncomfortable heat settles in Kev’s face and he quickly tabs out of the cat memes. “But, yeah, it was…kind of fucked up, I guess.”

The stranger points at the empty glass Kev’s been holding onto for the past half an hour. “Do you want more?”

Kev pity-chuckles. “Yeah, but I also don’t wanna get up.”

“Allow me,” says the stranger, and snatches the glass from Kevin’s hand. God, they have long fingers.

“Uh, you don’t have to…”

“It is my pleasure. You can tell me more about your species in return.” They get up, and suddenly Kev’s right side is oddly…cold. Had they been leaning against each other all that time? They smile down from approximately seven feet high, dangling the empty vessel entirely dwarfed by their bulk of a body. “Show me some more of those ‘memes’, yeah?”

Kev stupid-smiles, “Yeah, sure,” and discreetly screams into his hands once the person is out of hearing range.

God, what is going _on_.

It’s the booze. And the loneliness. The sheer thrill of talking human with someone other than his parents. And the loneliness.

His brain reminds him that it thinks they saw the person has a split tongue and Kevin pulls his knees tighter against his body.

You don’t fuck aliens, period. You just don’t. You never know what you’re gonna get. With his luck, they might have, like, two dicks or something.

Kev turns his overheated face towards the see-through ceiling, towards the ever-black universe just past several thick layers of beautifully-crafted, complex material. Humans never could have come up with that. Dad’s the first human in decades in a higher-up political position such as his, and nobody, including the humans themselves, are sure if that’s such a good idea.

Everyone is equal out here, of course—but despite the endless spectrum of species across the Federation’s Joined Galaxies, not many are as primitive as the human race.

The stranger returns with the well-needed beverage and Kev downs a good quarter of it right away.

The stranger laughs—a fake-sounding thing, almost robotic. “Are you thirsty, humechild? I shall get you some H2O instead.”

Kev rushes, “No, stay,” and adds a demure, “Please.”

The person, already halfway on their feet, smiles gently and lowers themselves back onto the grass. Yeah, the two of them are sitting close enough to be plastered against each other alright. “As you wish,” they say, and Kev feels the corners of his mouth pulling wide and upwards. Painfully so. “Now, tell me more about those domesticated canines you mentioned.”

People don’t normally want to converse with him. He’s either too young or too human or not smart enough. Always wrong. And they don’t even know the half of it.

He’s merely an extension of his politician dad, his science-genius mom. Most species lack the sense of empathy that’d allow them to hide that impression behind pleasantries.

So, this is soothing, and how could it not be? Cuddled up underneath some tree, watching dog videos, getting drunk with a hot, nice stranger? They smell like the wild mix of fruit they consumed, of earth and trees.

Kev didn’t notice how his hand had travelled to their knee and along their thigh until they reciprocate the gesture.

The arousal is immediate and dumbfounding.

Kev’s painfully aware that his mouth won’t close and that he just was somewhere mid-sentence about squeaky toys.

“Continue,” the person requests, seemingly unfazed with their palm easily covering the width of Kev’s thigh.

“I—I.”

“Are you alright?”

“I, yeah, uhm.” Kev clears his throat, rubs his middle finger along the seam of the person’s pants with some more intent. God, they’re burning _up_. “Just, uh. This is, t-this is. It feels nice.”

“I agree.”

A small silence, accompanied only by the distant promise of music and the artificial waterfall.

“Child, I need you to be honest with me.”

You’re too drunk. This is a bad idea. “Yeah?”

“Are you of age for it to be legal for me to touch you this intimately?”

A BAD IDEA, KEVIN. “I’m, I.” His eyes gloss over with something like tears, only that he’s not sad. “I’m, like, twenty-three, dude. I can fly m-my own spaceship; I have a license I can show you if you—”

The stranger puts their available hand on Kev’s cheek to turn his face the appropriate way and asks, superfluously, “Can I put my mouth on yours?”

Kev manages a, “Uh-huh,” before they kiss.

It’s soft and cuts right through him. Through the fog of disappointment and solitude and it happens again, again, again before there’s a wet-hot push against his lips and he opens them to feel a tongue.

Fuck.

Correct: _tongues_.

Kev’s head thuds back against the tree and the stranger hums, seemingly pleased with how easy Kev lets them handle him. They map out the inside of his mouth—his teeth, his tongue. He tries to do the same but there are too many teeth to keep track, not enough space around the split, long muscle bulging out the inside of his cheek.

“Feels nice,” they say, still able to form words while Kev’s not quite so sure anymore where he is.

“I, I don’t have…a penis.”

The stranger smiles, unblinking, soft. “Is that a problem?” Or _are_ their pupils round for real?

“N-no. I mean—is—is it? For you?”

“Why would it be of concern for me?”

“It’s, uh… Cool, then, I guess, uhm.”

“You are funny,” the stranger laughs, less robotic now, but it’s not exactly a laugh, more like a—sigh. A melody to how he says the words. “Are all humans like you?”

Kev breathes, “No,” and cranes his neck for another kiss.

They’re behind the tree, so people shouldn’t be able to see them from inside the house. And, to be honest, that’s none of Kev’s concerns even as he, unasked, climbs into the person’s lap, grabs their face right back and feels their skin for real for the first time—smooth, too-smooth, buttery and warm and slightly damp.

They inform, “We should mate somewhere more private,” all matter of fact and Kev nearly creams himself but he nods, very convinced by the entire prospect of every fucking word he just heard.

He tugs them along after checking that yeah, nobody’s thought of looking for either of them yet and nobody’s craning their neck for the garden either. Hand in hand and he didn’t notice until they push the forgotten glass back into his hands once they made it through the terrace door into Kev’s room.

“Hydrate,” they say, and Kev’s kinda seeing double but he’s not gonna say no anytime soon, so he finishes the drink in greedy gulps. The stranger stands with their back to the garden, facing Kev and looking real impressive now with both of them upright—seven feet easily, and Kev’s _small_ for a human.

He croaks, “Blinds,” and they begin to roll down the window front, and he adds a, “Mood lights,” and they come to life, dunking the room into slow, lilac-blue-purple waves of light.

Kev helps the stranger out of their top.

“You don’t even know my name yet.”

Oh, so _this_ is where you draw the line. Kev’s kinda out for dick right now but he’s gonna pretend to be _somewhat_ civilized, then. “What’s your name?”

A mischievous smile.

Kev grins back, irritated, slightly out of breath, bucking out of his own shirt. “What? You won’t tell me?”

“I cannot pronounce it in human.”

“No need. Just say it.”

The stranger opens their mouth, but no words emerge.

Instead, there’s a low rumble—it travels through Kevin’s breastbone, down his spine, into the tip of his toes and fingers.

Kevin’s speechless.

There’s no etiquette for this kind of situation.

“I. I can’t call you that,” he admits, and his alcohol-doused brain is still screaming in terror as to what fucking organ could possibly produce such a NOISE.

“Then call me whatever you want, Kevin Tran.”

Kev’s getting yanked out of his pants in a sudden rise of tempo and he’s hugged to that heated, massive body in front of him too-tight. This plus the tongues fucking his mouth make it really hard to concentrate on the fly of the stranger’s pants.

“Oh,” he says, dumbly, when the pants do come undone and the stranger helps pushing them down.

All he can do is kind of. Stare.

Yeah. Yeah, just his fucking luck.

The stranger places Kev’s hands on his calmingly humanoid hips. “You look surprised.”

“Yeah, n-no, I’m, uh.”

The stranger pulls them tighter together again to rub themselves into Kev’s stomach.

“There’s. I’m just not used to, uh—two. Of those.”

“I assure you that it is perfectly common for my species.”

“Okay.”

“Are you alright?”

“Oh, yeah. Totally. Absolutely. You are totally not, like, the hottest and m-most perfect fucking person or anything, s-so.”

They take a second off from grinding to hold Kevin and themselves apart wide enough for them to look Kev in the eye, for real.

They frown. “Are you using…sarcasm?”

Kev babbles, “Oh, yes, yeah,” and pushes his chest back up against the person’s sternum, “sorry, yes, I, God, I didn’t mean it, like—literally.” He adds, “You’re awesome,” close to tears and gets a gentle, deep kiss as a reward.

“I thought so. I just wanted to clarify.”

“Th-that’s, that’s very sensible, a-and also very smart of you.”

With that said, they lift Kevin off his feet.

Kev’s horny-drunk brain catches up surprisingly well and helps him wrap his limbs around the alien who proceeds to cradle him to their chest (very humanoid too) and tongue-fuck him further, one hand on the back of Kev’s head and the other on his ass, holding him up, easy as pie.

Their cocks are just barely grazing his tailbone and his taint, and if Kev’s mouth wasn’t filled to the brim he could spell it out loud:

Holy fuck.

Holy FUCK.

“Can we use this furniture?”

“Thu-the…m-my bed? Y-yeah, of—”

Kev’s on his back and has no oxygen left, not with that giant looming over him and immediately lining themselves up to—

They freeze.

A silence.

Someone in the dining room laughs too loud.

They stare between Kev’s legs. “There’s…two.”

“Well. Yeah.”

“Why do you have two?”

“Is, uh…that not common with your species, or…?”

“No,” they say, while their forehead slowly creases in pure and utter confusion.

Kev blinks. “You. You have two dicks and that’s normal, but two holes are not…?”

“You really have two of them,” they say.

“I mean, yeah.”

“Why didn’t you tell me.”

Kev begins, “Well, I…” but gets interrupted immediately.

“I didn’t know humans were this perfect. Why did you not tell me about this?”

Wait. What? “I’m, uh—sorry?”

“ _You’re perfect. Why? How can I be this blessed?_ ”

“Uh, wh—I can’t u-understand…?”

“Let me mate with you,” they say, lower voice now and on their elbows, back bowed so their anatomies are—sort of—lined up right. “Please. _Let me breed you._ ”

Kev gasps, “Oh,” and fumbles between his shaky legs to hold himself open right, because this species clearly doesn’t need much more preamble and he shudders upon contact.

They’re both dripping.

“ _Perfect little human_ ,” is a purr and nothing else, and Kev’s overcome with horror as they immediately begin to push both of their cocks into him—wet enough that not even his un-prepped ass stands a chance.

Oh God, he’s gonna get rawed by this alien.

Kev realizes too late that the person’s cocks are ribbed and painfully proportional to the rest of their body.

Both of them watch in complete wonder how both bulbous heads sink into their respective holes.

“ _By the Gods._ ”

Kev makes a deep-belly noise at the fat trickle of precome that oozes down his crack.

The alien growls at the increasing pressure but sinks inch after inch into him, gradually using more of their weight. Kev’s very sure he’s gonna run out of space super soon _but he doesn’t want to_ and pulls at his ass to will it more open.

This ain’t gonna be a question of ‘how open’, though.

More like: how much force is available to make this happen?

The alien gives a brief preview of the matter as they drop their hips deep and fast enough for their upper cock to French-kiss at Kev’s cervix.

They’re barely two-thirds in.

Kev sobs, “Holy shit,” while the stranger growls, frowns, and shoves their hips forward _again_.

Kev goes from spreading his ass to pulling at the back of his knees.

They’re so sweaty he can barely hold on. The stranger helps soon enough, engulfing both knobby joints with their skull-sized hands and simply uses them as handles to fold Kevin’s body as they deem fit.

They’re muttering under their breath, or whatever their equivalent to that is, and Kev’s head is vibrating with it—his chest, his breath, his heart, his dick.

He barely-says, “Don’t stop,” and they don’t, putting one hand to Kev’s face and telling him something he doesn’t understand. Their hips drag back just to grind forward again and Kev’s getting pulled inside-out with it, whines, and grabs for the stranger’s neck, their shoulders, anything to hold onto.

Kev nearly-crosses his ankles behind the small of the alien’s back and lets them hump him until they’ve worked up to a real thrust, snapping their hips and Kev can _hear_ the slick.

Kev’s so distracted by the tongues it takes a second to realize the world is spinning; no effort to be seen on that unreadable face except for the copious drops of sweat coming forth. They’re sitting now, somehow, and Kev’s getting bounced in their lap with the help of two very strong, very humanoid arms.

Kev’s crying honest tears now, stupid-bubbling from his eyes and he’s drooling, he thinks.

The two cocks in him push on relentlessly, now aided by the artificial gravity and stretching him out to the point his taint must be non-existent.

He sobs, “I’m coming,” and they’re not fazed, don’t stop for a beat, just keep using him like a fleshlight, a doll, something weightless and too-small.

Kev keeps from screaming his pleasure through the entire housing unit, but he won’t be able to explain how he did that, later.

“Beautiful,” the alien rumbles, “Keep squeezing me. Just like that.”

There’s only so much Kev’s body can voluntarily do or not do at this point. But the alien’s in luck either way.

Kev hiccup-sobs through the obscene amounts of slick between them, the thick stench of it—oddly sweet and mind-numbing, and God, he’s getting kisses again.

“Beautiful. My beautiful, beautiful human. Let me breed you. You must let me.”

There’s not an articulate answer but maybe Kev’s sobbing at the right frequency because _God,_ there’s nothing more wonderful than that _purr_ they’re emitting, how it fills him from head to toe and there’s a rush of heat and tempo, and.

They gasp into his mouth while they’re pumping him full in _gushes_.

His pussy doesn’t have that kind of availability, but his colon swallows, and swallows, and swallows.

It’s too late to gasp for ‘stop’ or any equivalent of that because Kev’s stomach is already bulging out with the ridiculous volume of it.

The excess floods down Kev’s thighs, drenches the bed below them.

They keep rubbing him up and down on their cocks through all of it.

It takes longer than he’d think any orgasm should (or _could_ ) last, ever, and he’s glad that they don’t just zone out and lose their grip on him.

The alien purrs, obviously delighted, and their eyes shine differently. But maybe that’s just the light and the general exhaustion ragging Kev’s sight.

“ _I love you._ ”

“Hm.” Kev chuckles. “That tickles. Say that again.”

“ _I love you. My beautiful human, I love you._ ”

Kev sighs and rests his head in the crook of the aliens (very humanoid) neck.

Just for a second.

~

There’s both an incredible pressure and a sensation of lightness in him when he wakes up.

He’s still naked, and his stomach is still—

holy fuck _it’s enormous_.

A glass of water appears in his line of sight.

“Hydrate.”

Kev does so, greedily.

“Hm,” the alien hums, naked as well and the dancing lights paint their body an otherworldly variety of colors. They rub over the over-pregnant swell of Kevin’s lower belly. “I like this.”

Their warm hand feels too fucking good on his skin. He sighs, “I’m so full,” and hands over the empty glass for the alien to put it away. He rubs both of his too-tiny hands over the newly accomplished bulge. “How am I not, like, bursting yet?”

“My hormone glands produce a certain chemical. When I retract my penii from your body, your orifices get sealed.”

“Wow.”

“It is very practical. It gives your body plenty of time to be fertilized.” A quick short glance earns him a calm, “Our DNA is incompatible. I fear a pregnancy is entirely impossible.”

Phew. “Fruitless, you could say.”

“Yes, you could say that.”

Both of them keep petting his belly. Both look at it, and Kev eventually smiles up at the alien, all sheepishly. Still a little drunk, maybe… Or, well, obviously.

“But it feels nice.”

“It suits you,” they say, all honest, all open.

“What did you say, earlier? The thing that tickled.” Kev plucks a stray strand of hair from the alien’s face—except that it doesn’t feel like hair at all. More like…a leaf. A rope. A gush of dry, sandy air.

They keep smiling, not having blinked a single time. They watch the splay of their fingers on the disproportioned swell of Kevin’s body.

“Oh,” they say, “nothing, really.”


End file.
